Author name: Jule Kucera

In the process of transitioning out of full-time employment, there were three questions I was asked consistently. The first came from people around my age and they asked it only when no one else was around: How did you know […]

(If you don’t want to see a photo of an icky wound, stop scrolling when you get to the end of the post.)  When I was in Tampa for my final trip for the bank, Leda was in boarding. Leda

I am no longer an employee of Fifth Third Bank. I am no longer employed anywhere. I have been earning money since I was 13, full-time since 24. The only break in being an employee was when I moved to

I used to think that forgiving someone was an event. You forgive someone. They get a clean slate. One and done. I don’t believe that anymore. I have a deep and persistent fear of becoming a bag lady. As one

(Some posts are harder to write than others.) My mother likes to get cards in the mail. I like to give cards. It’s a good combination. Because Valentine’s Day was coming, I stood in front of a wall of pink

Last week’s question about choosing to see the world differently led to this one: What if I saw myself not as what I was, with all my stories, but without them? Who would I be if I weren’t who I

I have been gifted with wonderful teachers. Some of them were bosses, some colleagues, some friends, some authors. One of them, a boss, once taught me about blindspots. This is the gist of what she said… “Jule, there are two

So why did it take me thirty years to be able to say “the church I belonged to for a decade was a cult”? Did I really need to read the characteristics of cults in Vogl’s book? Was I honestly